


It Could Be Right Now

by eggshellseas



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Although whether it's healthy is arguable, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, Bottom Seth, Brief reference to past Ambrolleigns, Dean and Seth are bad at feelings, Group Sex, Just assume Sheamus and Cesaro are happily in love and in an open relationship, M/M, Multi, This is primarily an Ambrollins fic, Under-negotiated Kink, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 09:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13808043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggshellseas/pseuds/eggshellseas
Summary: He and Dean had gotten back together, but they hadn’t gotten backtogether.Not that they’d ever been “together.”





	It Could Be Right Now

First of all, none of this was Seth’s idea. In fact, he doesn’t even know how it happened.

Okay, so that’s not _exactly_ true; he knows _how_. Cesaro had grabbed him coming out of the locker room, and, so rushed and low that Seth had to ask him to repeat himself three times, told him that Dean had “propositioned” (Cesaro’s word choice) Sheamus, and he’d thought Seth might want to know, and also did Seth want to come along, because apparently it wasn’t a closed event? And Seth, somehow, had not punched Cesaro, but instead, motivated mostly by concern for his rash and reckless partner’s well-being, had agreed.

That’s the immediate how anyway, although it begs a larger ‘how is this his life?’, not to mention a dozen _whys_ and _what the fuck’s_. Not that Seth finds his current state of affairs (feeling Cesaro up as they stumble into a hotel room) completely objectionable, because there's that part of his agreement _not_ covered by altruism. Cesaro’s practically a god after all, and it’s not like nothing’s ever happened between them in the showers after crossfit, but then there’s the other half of the equation, which Seth isn't sure how he's going to feel about.

The answer, as it turns out, is conflicted. He freezes as he's confronted with the sight of Sheamus on top of Dean. In retrospect it was embarrassingly over-optimistic, but he’d thought perhaps Dean and Sheamus would be having a beer, maybe just warming up with a little over-the-clothes action, but nope. They're both naked and Dean’s on his back on the bed, ankles hooked around Sheamus’ waist, and, fuck, Seth knows Dean’s hands aren’t anything close to small, but Sheamus’ biceps are massive enough that he could be fooled, and apparently Seth hadn’t really been mentally prepared for Sheamus to already be _inside_ of Dean, but here they all are.

“Now it’s a party,” Sheamus cries out jovially. He’s as sweaty and flushed as he gets in the ring, but his mohawk has fully collapsed, and maybe that means his defenses are down too, because Seth isn’t used to seeing him smile like this.

Dean tips his head back and squints. He looks surprised to see Seth, but not upset. Dean's easy-going like that. He even gives them a little upside-down wave, which Cesaro returns with a smirk. Seth just stares.

It’s, well, he and Dean had gotten back together, but they hadn’t gotten back _together._ Not that they’d ever been “together.” In any case it’s been a long time since Seth last saw Dean getting fucked (and even then it had been him or Roman, so a big, pale, ginger Irishman is definitely a new experience), and he looks good - always did (of course he always looked good doing the dicking too, but Seth’s brain can only handle so-detailed a trip down memory lane right now).

“Worried he’s going to break your brother?” Cesaro asks softly, turning to face him as he brushes Seth’s hair away from his neck and then kisses below his ear. “I think Ambrose might like that, don’t you?”

“Shut up,” Seth snaps, because Sheamus is _not_ going to break Dean, and Dean does _not_ want to be broken by Sheamus, and also, damn, dude, not the time to be referring to anyone as brothers. Cesaro, the smug, Swiss asshole, chuckles. Seth kisses him before he can say anything else. He’s mostly sure the groan from Dean and the heavy exhale from Sheamus are both expressing approval of the move. There’s a short beat where Cesaro seems taken off guard, but then he growls slightly and kisses Seth back.

Cesaro pulls away and then takes off his shirt, way slower than the situation really warrants, considering how often they're around each other shirtless (or, in Cesaro’s case specifically, basically nude), but hell if Seth is going to be outdone, so he follows suit, arms crossed to drag his tank off, making sure to flex as it comes over his head. It gets him a wolf whistle from Dean, and Seth automatically glances over, feeling a strange prickling in his scalp when their eyes lock. He'd kind of like to forget there's anyone else in the room, but it's pretty hard with Sheamus the big white whale dwarfing Dean’s far leaner form.

The moment’s broken when Cesaro gently grasps his face and pulls him into another kiss. Seth opens his mouth to it and runs his hands appreciatively over the muscles in Cesaro’s chest and shoulders. There'd never been much of this during their post-workout hookups, which tended towards perfunctory handjobs and compliments about each other’s fitness performance, but it’s unsurprising that Cesaro’s a good kisser.

Still, Seth can’t go long without checking in on the action on the mattress, where Dean is now curling in on himself, head lifted to tuck his face close to Sheamus’ neck. Sheamus is murmuring into his ear, indecipherable besides the mocking lilt to his accent. It distracts Seth enough that Cesaro has an easy time bearing him down to the floor, tugging Seth’s sweatpants off along the way. Seth winds up sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him and Cesaro crouched between them. 

Since Seth feels compelled to keep up, and since Cesaro’s position makes it convenient, Seth pulls Cesaro’s track pants and briefs down. His cock is thick and uncut, and every time Seth sees it he finds himself thinking how perfectly proportional it is - how everything about Cesaro is just a little _too_ perfect (there was the teeth, but even those are mostly back to perfect now). 

A glance back up towards the bed finds Sheamus watching openly as Seth starts stroking Cesaro’s cock. Dean’s a little shiftier about it, gaze darting away when Seth catches him. Sheamus is rocking his hips just slightly, and Dean gives an impatient wriggle and kicks Sheamus in the ass with his heel.

“Alright, ya fucking bitch,” Sheamus says with a laugh. He grips Dean behind his knees and rolls him up, getting his legs over his shoulders before bracing himself with his hands on either side of Dean’s head to thrust hard - short, deep jabs that have Dean clawing at the sheets. “I swear, Ambrose, you’ve just gotten easier to toss around,” Sheamus says as he’s very deliberately making eye contact with Seth. “Stopped pretending you didn’t like it, eh?”

“Fuck’” Dean rasps ineloquently.

“Remember all those times I’d get you on the ropes, tear that fucking stupid vest right off?” Sheamus continues, and thumps his closed fist right between Dean’s pecs. 

Dean nods, looking a bit dazed. Seth remembers that too. Sheamus used that move on everyone of course, but there was just something about the way he’d pull Dean’s shirt over his face, something about the way Dean would arch into it. It’s something Dean draws out in most of his opponents actually, and God knows Seth has certainly exploited it - that Dean is always, _always_ asking for more punishment.

While it _does_ things to Seth to think about all the ways he’d wrecked Dean during their fights, he slams a gate closed on those guilty desires for the moment. He’s just gotten Dean’s trust back, and it seems like a bad idea to do anything that would remind Dean of the Seth Rollins he hated. Maybe down the line...maybe if Dean asked for it (demanded was more likely, Seth snorts to himself), but Dean hasn’t, _hadn’t_ \- he’d asked Sheamus.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Cesaro’s voice cuts through, and Seth realizes he’s just sort of limply cupping the shaft of Cesaro’s cock.

“Fuck me,” Seth blurts out.

Cesaro lifts an eyebrow and shares a look with Sheamus.

“Alright, Tony,” Sheamus grins, and gives him a thumbs up. Cesaro tilts his head in some kind of silent communication, and Sheamus pulls out of Dean, who gives a started yelp. “Let’s give ‘em a minute to catch up,” Sheamus tells him, punctuating it with a loud slap to Dean’s outer thigh. Sheamus pulls the condom off and jacks himself with a loose fist, keeping his erection up, while Dean just lays there loose-limbed and sleepy-eyed.

Cesaro stands smoothly, goes over to the bed, wraps a hand around the back of Sheamus’ neck and kisses him deeply. “Hi,” he murmurs fondly, pulling back just a fraction.

“Hi yerself,” Sheamus replies, giving Cesaro’s ass a squeeze with his free hand.

Cesaro grabs a condom and a bottle of lube and beckons Seth over. He gives Dean’s hair a friendly ruffle as he waits, which Dean doesn't take kindly to, batting at Cesaro grouchily. Sheamus intercedes, catching Dean’s wrists and then pinning them to the mattress.

Seth crawls forward. His throat feels tight and parched. 

Less nice this time, Cesaro scrubs his palm over the top of Dean’s head, then pulls his hair back and steps even closer, practically straddling Dean’s face at the very edge of the bed. Somehow it's Seth who can barely breathe just thinking about Dean getting smothered between muscular thighs. Since he can’t actually see, his mind is automatically running through the possible scenarios, wondering if Dean’s mouthing Cesaro’s balls, or staying stubbornly unresponsive, or maybe nuzzling closer on blind, touch-starved instinct, maybe wrinkling his nose at being tickled by Cesaro’s pubes, probably panting damply against the base of Cesaro’s cock.

For a moment, Seth thinks he's going to see Dean getting double-teamed, and he doesn't think he can handle it; he's going to blow up this weird truce and probably get his ass kicked. But Cesaro just leans over to kiss Sheamus again and then turns back to Seth, moving to kneel behind him.

“Asshole,” Dean gasps, flushed bright red.

“Be nice, or I won't put my cock back in you,” Sheamus tuts.

“You should call him Daddy. He likes that,” Cesaro snickers, resting his chin on Seth’s shoulder.

“Oh shut it, you. Don’t start up with that,” Sheamus says, but he looks amused.

“You guys do this a lot?” Seth finds himself asking.

“Which part?” Cesaro says, his tone slightly mocking. “Which guys?” 

Seth can imagine there's a whole string of thirds Sheamus and Cesaro have used as toys. He thinks about Dean having done this before and then swallows. “Never mind.”

Dean flashes him a mean smile like he knows what’s on his mind. In retaliation, Seth half-turns and hooks an arm around Cesaro’s neck, licking into his mouth as Cesaro rubs wet fingers between his ass cheeks. Two fingertips press lightly at his hole, testing, before drawing back for Cesaro to apply more lube.

He shudders when one slides in, so careful, neat, almost, compared to the way it seems like Cesaro’s trying to eat him alive - biting at his lips, tongue thick in his mouth. 

When Cesaro adds a second finger, Seth drops back down to face forward, both hands planted on the floor. He hears Cesaro curse under his breath as he fumbles with the condom wrapper, but there's barely a pause before Cesaro’s hand is gone and his cock is at his entrance. “Okay?” Cesaro asks.

Seth nods, and then grits his teeth and pushes back, impaling himself before Cesaro can take the iniative. His eyes are closed as he breathes through the burn, but a choked noise from Dean snaps them open just in time to see Sheamus’ hips sinking down to meet Dean’s as he gets back to fucking him. 

And then he and Dean are staring at each other again, and it's like - Seth doesn't even know how to explain it, but they're both getting fucked, and it kind of feels like Dean’s fucking him, and he’s fucking Dean, and Sheamus and Cesaro don’t matter at all.

“Should make this a tradition - losers give up their asses along with the titles,” Dean says, and he’s smirking, but the look he’s giving Seth is all searing hurt and anger. Seth wants to tell him that it's okay, and they'll get the titles back, and that he doesn't have to - whatever this is, but it's not exactly the time or place, so Seth just keeps their gazes locked. Although he can feel that connection between them even without them touching, Seth would _really_ prefer to be touching. Apparently Dean feels the same way, because he reaches back, arm outstretched, and lets his neck bend farther over the side of the bed. Seth is scooting forward before he even realizes it, grabbing Dean’s hand desperately.

Cesaro shuffles along with him, and gives a sarcastic “Aw,” which makes Sheamus chuckle, but Seth doesn’t care. He cups the side of Dean’s face with his other hand and kisses him upside down. It’s messy and awkward, but it’s Dean, and it's perfect.

“Innit that sweet?” Sheamus coos, thrusting harder now, jolting Dean so that their kiss devolves into noses bumping and teeth clacking. Seth licks sloppily at Dean’s mouth, which is hanging open as he pants. Spit is getting all over his face, and Seth can already tell his lips are going to be way chapped later, but hey, worth it.

Sheamus and Cesaro are perfectly in sync with their fucking, but Cesaro has the decency to give Seth a reach-around, while Sheamus, in contrast, yanks Dean's arm away when he goes to touch himself. Seth feels a little bad for him, but he's pretty preoccupied. Cesaro’s grip is tight and slides smoothly, and his cock is stretching Seth open in the best way - goddamn too-perfect cyborg. He's nothing like Dean, who’s weird and awkward, and who drools sometimes when his prostate gets nailed just right, and who’s accidentally elbowed Seth in the face during sex multiple times, and has genuinely cried with laughter at sex farts. Or at least, he used to do all those things; Seth supposes he doesn't know for sure anymore, but he'd like the chance to confirm.

That line of thinking gets abruptly cut off (but placed on a shelf to potentially come back to later) because Seth gets too close to do anything besides feel his orgasm rush over him. He comes suddenly over Cesaro’s hand, dimly aware that Sheamus finishes about that same time. It hits him as sort of funny that out of the three of them it's Sheamus he came with, kind of.

After a few great, shuddering breaths, Sheamus pulls out and discards the condom. Then he flips Dean over with disconcerting and maddening ease, pulling his arms behind his back and locking his forearm behind both of Dean’s elbows. Dean’s head falls back on Sheamus’ shoulder and he’s left with his legs folded awkwardly underneath himself

Seth doesn’t need to be asked - he kneels up, pushing Cesaro along with him, digs his fingers into Dean’s hips, and takes Dean in his mouth. It's absurd that it took this-losing the titles, fucking their rivals-to get them here again, and now that they are here, it seems even crazier that Seth was nervous about taking this step. He and Dean fit; they always have.

As he starts bobbing his head, letting Cesaro’s renewed thrusts set the rhythm, Seth sneaks a hand between Dean’s thighs, touch grazing over his balls and taint, then farther back only to find Sheamus already there, fucking Dean slowly with three fingers. Seth knows it’s three because he counts them as he traces around Dean’s stretched rim, wanting to check and reassure himself that Dean’s okay. Dean (and to be fair Seth has this problem as well) isn’t great at knowing his own limits, and Seth needs him in fighting form.

Sheamus reaches down, and Seth, thinking he’s going to grab his hair, is ready to shake him off, but he bypasses him entirely to place his hand on Cesaro's head. It’s surely not a coincidence that a few seconds later Cesaro’s movements go jerky. At the same time, Dean’s struggling to press forward as much as he can, and Seth feels a rush of power at how bad Dean wants deeper in his throat. Between the both of them, his cock twitches, trying to get hard again, but it’s way too soon. 

Dean chokes out his name in warning, but Seth doesn’t need it with how well he can read Dean’s body. He squeezes at Dean’s flanks encouragingly and ducks closer to swallow as he comes. Seth would like to keep sucking on Dean’s cock until Dean’s soft and over-sensitive and cursing in protest once it gets to be too much, trying to get away rather than closer, but he’s thwarted by Cesaro wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him back against his chest, burying his face in the crook of Seth’s neck as he tenses all over, his dick pulsing as he fills the condom.

There’s a long moment where it’s silent except for their chorus of heavy breathing. Seth watches a bead of sweat slide down the bridge of Dean’s nose. Suddenly, Sheamus snorts. Seth glances up and these motherfuckers are doing their stupid Bar fist bump. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Seth snaps.

As ridiculous as it is, it could be a reminder of their defeat in the ring, and Seth is again aware of what a strange situation Dean (because this is totally Dean’s fault) has put them in, but Dean laughs so hard he starts wheezing, and Cesaro’s giggling right in Seth’s ear, which is pretty infectious, so all Seth can do is shake his head with a chagrined smile.

Sheamus grins and lets Dean’s arms go, giving him a hearty slap on the back and a quick kiss to the top of his head before shoving him off the edge of the bed. Seth only just manages to catch him. He takes the opportunity to squeeze Dean in a brief, but tight hug. Dean gives an embarrassed all-over twitch and slides off to the side, which Seth understands. Now that there’s no more fucking going on, Seth can feel self-consciousness creeping in. It’s not helped by the patronizing pat on the head he gets when Cesaro rises and stretches.

“Alright boys,” Sheamus says, smirking. “Now get out.” He kicks back and settles against the other end of the mattress, leaning back against the pillows and folding his arms behind his head. Cesaro slips into bed next to him, and then they’re kissing again, this time with an air of smug satisfaction.

Dean slinks to gather his clothes, his face red. Seth kind of wants to help him get dressed, but he resists the urge, and instead gets himself presentable as quickly as possible. Sheamus and Cesaro are too wrapped up in each other to spare them another glance, and it definitely feels like a walk of shame situation as they step out into the hall and head towards the elevators.

“So…” Seth says after pushing the call button.

“So,” Dean mumbles in response, drumming his fingers on his collarbone.

“That...happened.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, ducking into the elevator. Seth follows. It’s empty, thankfully, but even so Dean jams himself into the corner like he’s trying not to take up too much space. Seth’s grasping for something to say before they get off on different floors and the whole weird, kind of terrible, kind of amazing night is over. He’s pretty stuck on the crazy sex that just happened, though, and still coming up blank when there’s a ding and the door slides open.

Dean steps out, but then turns and and braces his arm against the door to keep it from closing. “Next time no Europeans,” he drops casually, and quirks a smile at Seth, his cheeks dimpling, before stepping back, leaving Seth staring at him like an idiot. Then he’s gone.

It takes a minute to sink in, but then Seth laughs to himself and gets his phone out to text Dean, “Agreed,” and his room number.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse except that I wanted it and it didn't exist.
> 
> Also, hi, I'm on [tumblr ](http://www.eggshellseas.tumblr.com).


End file.
